


Keeping Score

by Xela



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff knows he's so in for it after he gets home from the Scream Awards.  So very, very dead.  (He can't wait.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Score

**Author's Note:**

> The only PRF I will ever write. Done as a gift for someone on a gift exchange a while ago. Based on a real-life moment.

Jeff tunes out the screaming fans lining the walk, smiling for the cameras and talking to cookie-cutter TV interviewers. Things like this are good for his career, he reminds himself. He can hear his agent patiently explaining the ins and outs of these events and turns into another blinding flash of light.

“Jeffrey! Jeffrey! Over here, Jeffrey!” Christ, he hates the paparazzi. Loves his job, hates the people who want to know when he takes out his trash, what brand of spaghetti he likes, and marvels that he's 'Just Like Us!' This would be so much more bearable with a date. He hadn't dragged Jensen to this...why, again? Oh right. Jensen claimed he was “busy,” off in the middle of nowhere “filming.” No quickies in the men's room to make the evening go faster.

Weak.

Jeff's about to suck it up and go talk to another reporter when he see a familiar shaggy brown head of hair out the corner of his eye. Oh, thank Christ, someone he knows and can use as a shield. He sidles up to Jared, distracted by the blonde chick giving the interview, and pokes him in the side. He enjoys the moments when Jared's trying to keep it together for the interviewer and see what fucktard is interrupting him. 

Jeff sees the instant Jared registers it's him, his publicity smile shifting into something warmer and more genuine.

“Hey!” he says, reaching for him with his giant arms. Jeff glances at the reporter and shakes his head; he hadn't meant to really interrupt. But Jared's having none of it. Jeff finds himself pulled into a hug, smooshed against Jared's chest. Fucker really is huge, he keeps forgetting.

“This is my boyfriend,” Jared says with a grin. Ah, crap. Jeff's a great actor, though, and keeps the easy smile on his face, even though he's going to drop kick Jared when they get off the red carpet. Maybe this won't show up on the internet. The people around them have frozen in stunned silence, which is actually kind of funny.

“Dad?” the interviewer suggests, and he grabs onto it like a life line. 

“Yeah, that's what he meant,” Jeff agrees, plastering a smile on his face because there's no way they won't keep this off the 'net, and there's no way Jensen won't see it, and he's gonna _kill_ Jeff. Man, he loves Jared, but really? The woman interviewing Jared looks kind of shell shocked, not sure how to take the way Jared's wrapped himself around Jeff, smiling a little devilishly. Time to cut his losses. He starts dragging Jared away from the cameras.

“You look good, man! Really good.” Jared smiles, all dimples and innocence.

“Yeah, you too. Wanna let go of me?” Jared grins, and Jeff can tell he knows _exactly_ what he's doing.

“But shookums! We just reunited!” Jared goes in to kiss him, and Jeff gets his hand in between Jared's face and his lips, pushes his head back as he laughs and makes kissy noises against Jeff's palm.

“Jen'll shnookums you!” Jeff grunts, trying not to laugh. Jared is just the kind of ridiculous he needs right now—the Scream Awards are definitely looking up.

“Are you cheating on me with Jensen?!” Jared gasps in mock affront, staggering off and clutching at the imaginary knife in his heart.

“Hate to break it to ya pup, but YOU were the mistress.” Jared throws back his head and laughs, and Jeff has to admire the long column of his throat and those damned dimples. Hey, he's a slightly bent male here. He knows a pretty thing when he sees it, taken or not.

“We'll just hope Jensen doesn't find out about the affair then,” Jared says with a smirk that means Jensen probably already knows. Fuck.

***

Sure enough, come too late (or early) in the morning, Jeff's phone rings. It's a restricted number, but Jeff knows, without a sliver of a tiny miniscule doubt, that it's Jensen.

“Hello?” he answers, letting his voice go gravely and deep. He hears a sharp breath at the end of the line. (Jeff 1 Jenny 0 – He's gonna enjoy the lead while he has it.)

“Found something _interesting_ on the internet,” Jensen says by way of greeting. He sounds distracted. It's a lie. He's a lying liar that lies like the lying dog he is.

“Lots of interesting things on the net,” Jeff says blandly; two can play at this game, and Jeff's had a sight more practice than Jensen. “Why, just the other day, I found some mighty fine photos of you in a cowboy hat.”

“You...what, that's just—” Jensen makes a strangled, angry noise and Jeff changes the score: Him 2, Jensen 0. Victory tastes sweet. (And he may have to take Jared up on that offer to borrow his framed copy for Jensen's homecoming.)

“Use your words, Jenny.” (That puts him up 3 to Nuthin'.)

“Fuck. You.”

“Yeah?” Jeff asks, a little breathless. He rubs himself through his jeans, lazy and unhurried. “You gonna do that when you get back?” He unzips his pants, leaning close so Jensen can hear the sound of the teeth pulling away.

“Shit.” He can hear Jensen scrambling to catch up and get with the program. 4 - oh.

Jeff strokes himself, just enough to coax his cock to full hardness, Jensen's breath heavy in his ears. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel Jensen's breath on his neck, hot and panting.

“Been half-hard all night,” Jeff rumbles, matching his strokes to the sounds he can hear from Jensen's end. He'd spent the entire night imagining all the ways he could fuck Jensen at the awards without getting caught...and a few where they got caught by everyone from the cops to Mary Louise.

“You got a thing for tall, hyper and scraggly?” Jensen asks bitchily. He goes for a point but it gets deflected; Jeff plays great defense.

“I got a thing for you. That make YOU scraggly?” Jeff returns volley. (Jeff 5 Jensen 0)

“Wasn't me wrapped around you tonight.” And Jensen's voice goes dark and rough, that demanding tone that's sexy as fuck (if it had been anyone other than Jared, who they both trust with their lives, Jeff would be in for a full-on jealous snit of epic proportions). Jeff has to stifle his gasp, his fingers tightening around the phone. His cock is rock hard. (Jeff 5 Jensen 1)

“That was—that was all Jared.”

“Yeah?” Jensen says, disbelieving. Jeff can hear Jensen pulling out the Big Guns, locked and loaded. He may be up by 4, but Jensen's about to decimate him. “Really...Dad?”

“Motherfu—” Jeff grits his teeth together and presses hard against his crotch so he doesn't come. The game's a wash, Jensen just won by a landslide and he knows it. Jeff bites down on his fist because he's a 42 year-old-man and he doesn't come from a single word. He's got pride and stamina and—

“Somethin' wrong there, Jeffrey Dean?” Jensen asks, amused, pulling out the Texas drawl. Jensen's soft chuckle turns into a gasping moan and Jeff can see it now: the way Jensen's thumb rubs over the head of his cock, presses into the dip underneath the glans. How he strokes himself with a little twist on the end, cockhead shiny with precome, red and needy.

It takes a while for Jeff to talk himself down, especially while the sounds of Jensen stroking himself are loud in his ear.

“You're treadin' on thin ice there, sonny boy,” Jeff growls, his own hand speeding up now that the threat of immanent orgasm has passed. He's still more aroused than he'd like; he wants to draw this out, listen as Jensen looses himself. The edge is still a little too close, and this is going to be over faster than he wants, but a man's gotta make sacrifices.

“Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do? How're you gonna keep me in line?” Jensen asks, challenging and coy. Fuck, he's going to send Jeff hurtling over a cliff if he keeps talking. “What're you gonna do, Jeffrey? _Spank_ me?”

“Jesus, I—Jensen!” There are stars behind his eyes, bright and painful. Fuck, he's coming like a schoolboy being touched for the first time. Jensen's laughing at him even as he jacks himself, breathy pants mixed with choked off giggles. Boy's gonna be the death of him.

Jensen manages a garbled “Jeff!” when he comes, his soft whimper hitting a high note at the end.

“Mnurgh,” Jeff sighs, spent but not quite satiated. It takes more than his own hand and Jensen's voice in his ear to accomplish that.

“Yeah,” and Jensen's own voice sounds a little wistful. “I'll be back soon.” Two more weeks of filming. The date's circled in yellow highlighter on Jeff's calendar.

“Take your time,” Jeff says with a grin. “I got a boyfriend here to keep me busy.”

He drifts off to the sound of Jensen's laughter.


End file.
